Disability and Art History

Ann Millett-Gallant, Elizabeth Howie, Ann Millett-Gallant, Elizabeth Howie

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2016
• Print ISBN:
  9781472453525
• eBook ISBN:
  9781315439983
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Social Work
• Index: Social Sciences

This is the first book of its kind to feature interdisciplinary art history and disability studies scholarship. Art historians have traditionally written about images of figures with impairments and artworks by disabled artists, without integrating disability studies scholarship, while many disability studies scholars discuss works of art, but do not necessarily incorporate art historical research and methodology. The chapters in this volume emphasize a shift away from the medical model of disability that is often scrutinized in art history by considering the social model and representations of disabled figures from a range of styles and periods, mostly from the twentieth century. Topics addressed include visible versus invisible impairments; scientific, anthropological, and vernacular images of disability; and the theories and implications of looking/staring versus gazing. They also explore ways in which art responds to, envisions, and at times stereotypes and pathologizes disability. The insights offered in this book contextualize understanding of disability historically, as well as in terms of medicine, literature, and visual culture.

1 Artists and muses

“Peter’s World” and other photographs by Susan Harbage Page

Ann Millett-Gallant

My nephew Peter was born with disabilities. He has always had trouble with balance and sports. He finally learned to read at 14 and has always been interested in animals, imaginary action figures, musicals and now professional sports. He lives in a group home in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, near his mother. Most of these images were made during family gatherings; summer vacations, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter. I began photographing Peter when he was five years old. The early images are just me responding to him and I believe trying to come to terms with who he was. The next phase in the image making was totally controlled by Peter. He would plan backdrops and costumes for these images. Currently the images are more collaborative.¹

Susan Harbage Page

The camera has been employed as an instrument of empirical judgment, surveillance, social documentation, and artistic creation. Photographic portraiture in particular crosses these diverse contexts, as photographic conventions for displaying the body serve as visual codes for measuring, stereotyping, and memorializing human beings. Photography, through repeated visual conventions, has established cultural codes for notions of “normal” versus “pathological” human appearance, behavior, and character. Yet, the camera has also been an instrument of memory and nostalgia, as well as a medium for the representation of a loved one, or muse. This chapter contemplates and compares all these contexts while gazing at photographs of bodies, specifically Susan Harbage Page’s photographs of her developmentally disabled nephew, Peter. The photographs produce multidimensional and humanistic representations of him, which I will demonstrate by comparing and contrasting them with other visual representations of children and of developmentally disabled subjects. Page’s photographs of Peter incorporate elements from the other images I analyze; yet, they strongly distinguish themselves from these counter-examples by being intimate and yet defiant of cultural stereotypes of developmentally disabled subjects. I will also conceive of Page’s and Peter’s relationship as one of artist and muse, to emphasize the intersubjectivity of their collaborative artwork and to undermine the conventional power dynamics between a non-disabled photographer and a disabled, objectified subject.

The opening passage is taken from photographer Susan Harbage Page’s unpublished book of photographs, “Peter’s World 1985–2005,” which features Peter from age five to twenty-five. Arranged chronologically, the photographs document Peter’s childhood and early maturation in his mother’s home, group home, neighborhood, and immediate surroundings. The photographs display Peter at work, play, leisure, and deep in thought; showcase his fascinations for animals, sports, and toy action figures; or include Peter as a silhouette against a landscape or genre scene. Shot with strong blacks and whites, a grainy quality to the tones, and sometimes blurred backgrounds, the photographs resemble both family snapshots and also documentary photographs, which have historically called for social reform. Yet, rather than sentimentalizing or typecasting Peter, the images offer a fluid, unclassifiable, and even rich depiction of developmental disability and of Peter as an individual. I chose the term “developmental disability” strategically, for it characterizes certain impairments and their manifestations, yet it is also specifically collective and abstract. While this term might problematically lump a number of intellectual and physical disabilities, I chose it for its descriptive, rather than prescriptive, function. This chapter, like Page’s portraits of Peter, refuses to diagnose or brand Peter according to his specific impairments. I will argue for these interpretations of “Peter’s World” by contextualizing them in relation to art historical representations of children; Diane Arbus’s Untitled series (1970–1971), portraits of developmentally disabled residents of group homes; pseudo-anthropological exhibitions of “freaks” and human/animal hybrids; and Page’s own self-representations. Page’s images of Peter, as a photographic series, reflect on, yet contradict problematic histories of representing developmentally disabled subjects. Peter’s body and activities both saturate and overflow the frames of “Peter’s World,” while both artist and muse emerge inter-subjectively.

While it is difficult to classify the portraits of “Peter’s World” by genre, they share common motifs. Peter’s fascination with objects is the subject of Peter with Dinosaur Photo (1991, fig. 1.1), in which a shirtless Peter looks serious, even impassioned. The viewer sees Peter’s childlike body with rounded belly emerging from the edge of white cotton briefs, which he sticks out farther in his slouched pose as he points to a dinosaur image, a photograph he took. Thus this is also an image of a photographer showing his work. In Peter with a Doll in His Pocket (1993), Peter looks strained, serious, and perhaps in pain. Shadows cross his body and face, as the photographer plays with light and shadow as elements of drama. Peter with Catwoman Doll (1992), evidences Peter’s interest in superheroes. Wearing the same clothes as in Peter with Catwoman Doll, Peter, in Peter with Back to Camera (1992, fig. 1.2), turns away from a bright studio light, which is visible inside the left-hand frame of image. This marked presence of a spectator in the photograph makes Peter’s pose one of resistance or self-removal. In contrast, Peter at Work (2005), reveals a decidedly more mature face, again leaning over in concentration on an undistinguishable activity with cards.

Visual representations of children and childhood, particularly since early modern times, are lush and often contradictory. Art historian Anne Higonnet analyzes such representations in fine art and in various media of visual culture, including commercial images, formal family portraits, and everyday snapshots. According to Higonnet, images of children are often constructed to imply innocence, idealism, and optimism.² Yet, they also suggest implicit danger or corruption. Ideal childhood innocence is a modern, Romantic concept, Higonnet argues, as children are often represented as little adults in dress and pose, who portray proper masculine and feminine ideals.³ A famous example is Thomas Gainsborough’s The Blue Boy (c. 1770), in which a dapper young man stands with one foot forward, holds a riding helmet, and wears a period suit of sumptuous, sapphire fabric with silky white details, which overwhelms his boyish frame. He is staged as the archetype of proper masculinity, for boys and for men.

Figure 1.1 Susan Harbage Page, Peter with Dinosaur Photo, 20 × 24 inches, silver gelatin print, 1991.

Higonnet refers to such examples of painted portraiture, yet focuses on photography because it implies fact, yet is also known for deception. Photographs portray the “real,” but are subject to infinite forms of alteration. Photography also crosses and often confuses genres. Photographs are the pastimes of amateurs and the works of professionals; they are found abundantly in everyday culture, fine art, and a range of popular and commercial contexts. Higonnet further explains, in relation to images of children’s bodies, how photography bears unique associations with pornography.⁴ Photographs have indexical and visceral relationships with the subject portrayed, and many photographers have been accused of exploiting children, sometimes their own children, in the guise of depicting naked innocence.⁵ Further, questions of consent and agency become convoluted when the subject matter is children’s bodies.

Figure 1.2 Susan Harbage Page, Peter with Back to Camera, 20 × 24 inches, silver gelatin print, 1992.

Children have been conventionally represented with mothers, across historical, cultural, and visual contexts, and are considered appropriate or predictable subjects for women artists. The Romantic child, according to Higonnet, was conventionally represented as protected by a mother’s love.⁶ No one protects Peter. Yet, Page remembers the family always being present at the settings, and indeed, she has numerous photographs of Peter participating in and even directing his cousins’ play. She chose to include in her book the photographs that feature and allow Peter to dominate the frame. In Page’s eyes and through her camera, Peter is all-powerful.

Page approaches her subject through her familial relationship with Peter, and her images hint at these dynamics. In Peter with Comic Book (2000, fig. 1.3), Peter is not ashamed of his nakedness as he lies on the bed reading before his aunt’s gaze and the camera. Peter’s reclining torso is shot diagonally, with soft focus and blurry details. His nude, reclining upper body is central to the image, and his lower half is more abstracted, as bended legs emerge inconspicuously beneath his book. The book shields his face and takes center stage in the image; his penis, concealed by his leg, plays a minor role. Page may have angled the shot specifically to avoid objectifying Peter, as she focuses on his activities and accomplishments. The image documents Peter’s ability to read, a skill he obtained in adolescence. In this semi-nude portrait, Peter is specifically personalized, rather than objectified.

Figure 1.3 Susan Harbage Page, Peter with Comic Book, 20 × 24 inches, silver gelatin print, 2000.

All of the photographs focus solely on Peter as their star, yet this characteristic staging places Peter in isolation. Particularly in the images shot at family gatherings, such as holiday celebrations, Peter is featured alone. Peter at Christmas (2000), features Peter in solitude, asleep on the floor of a vacant family living room in front of a lit Christmas tree. More formal, staged portraits in visual history depict children as the bearers of noble lineage, and often, children are posed within their royal families. They represent their families’ legacy. Higonnet argues that like these formal painted portraits, family snapshots display the desires, successes, and lifestyles of parents.⁷ In contrast, Peter’s family is noticeably absent in “Peter’s World.”

Page’s portraits of Peter allude to but conceal Peter’s relationships. In Peter with Cramer (2001, fig. 1.4), the foreground is dominated by the back of a frisky, jumping black dog that licks Peter’s smiling face. Pairings of children with cute, cuddly, specifically domesticated animals abound in visual culture. Yet here, both the dog and Peter appear enraptured and wild. Peter does not control or dominate Cramer, but rather interacts with him at the mouth. Peter Talks with His Girlfriend (2002) features Peter standing with his back to the family garage as he talks on a cell phone. In all the other photographs of Peter’s face, he looks serious and sometimes stern; these two photographs show glimpses of Peter’s smile. These images of friendship suggest that Peter is part of a loving community, yet they show Peter visibly alone.

Peter assumes his role as solitary leading man with gusto. As represented in several of Page’s photographs, Peter loves Halloween. Peter with Clown Mask (1994), shows Peter in a mask with a strong, menacing grin. In this photograph, he is an evil clown. In Halloween: Peter with Walker the Rat (2005), Peter poses with a toy rat, and in Peter with Cape (1994, fig. 1.5), Peter stands before an outdoor wall, glaring at the camera with a slightly downward gaze. Peter, in these photographs, tries on different identities and fantasizes. Further, he performs before the camera. The Halloween images, like many others of Peter and his activities, emphasize the narrowing of his eyes; the white, round mass of his forehead; and his characteristically vacant stare. His facial features and expression reflect his developmental disabiliti...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• List of images
• Notes on contributors
• Acknowledgements
• Disability and art history introduction
• 1 Artists and muses: “Peter’s World” and other photographs by Susan Harbage Page
• 2 Exploiting, degrading, and repellent: against a biased interpretation of contemporary art about disability
• 3 Nothing is missing: spiritual elevation of a visually impaired Moche shaman
• 4 Divining disability: criticism as diagnosis in Mesoamerican art history
• 5 Difference and disability in the photography of Margaret Bourke-White
• 6 Representing disability in post–World War II photography
• 7 The disabled veteran of World War I in the mirror of contemporary art: the reception of Otto Dix’s painting The Cripples (1920) in Yael Bartana’s film Degenerate Art Lives (2010)
• 8 Disabling Surrealism: reconstituting Surrealist tropes in contemporary art
• 9 The dandy Victorian: Yinka Shonibare’s allegory of disability and passing
• 10 Crafting disabled sexuality: the visual language of Nomy Lamm’s “Wall of Fire”
• Index